It is all about the words!

The Obsolete Narrative Devices Support Group

Lights come up slowly to full fluorescence on a room, drab and industrial in décor, one wall cracked in several places. Empty chairs are arranged in an uneven circle: after a moment, figures drift in and take their seats. Last to arrive is the THERAPIST, clad head to toe in black, carrying a small clipboard and sporting the sort of smile which makes small children fear what’s good for them.

THERAPIST: Hello everybody! I’d like to start today’s session with—

A thin, nervous figure puts up his hand, clearing his throat repeatedly.

OPENING TITLE SEQUENCE: Excuse me? Please? Begging your pardon?

THERAPIST: [sighing] Yes, Opening Title Sequence?

OPENING TITLE SEQUENCE: [clearing throat weakly once again] It’s just that I usually start the meeting—

THERAPIST: Yes, yes, I know. But you must understand: it’s not actually helping you, to keep doing this. As I’ve said before, you really need to find another way, if you’re going to become relevant again, yeah?

OPENING TITLE SEQUENCE: Next week. I’ll do something different next week.

THERAPIST: All right. Go on, then. But this is the last time, mind. Technically, you shouldn’t even be here. This is a support group for literary narrative devices, not TV.

PROLOGUE FROM THE FUTURE: So what I did was, I decided to step into the shoes of an Unreliable Narrator…

Everyone groans.

CONTINUOUS PAST TENSE: I was wondering who was going to hop on the Unreliable Narrator bandwagon this week.

OMNISCIENT 3RD PERSON NARRATOR: They may be flavour of the month, but it’ll never last.

CONTINUOUS PAST TENSE: I was thinking that myself.

PROLOGUE FROM THE FUTURE: [clears throat before reading loudly and smugly] ‘If only I’d told the truth about the man with the gun, Ermintrude would not have died. But that is assuming that the truth is more than just one version of events, and my part in this is anything but a fiction…’

Discontented murmurs break out amongst the rest of the group.

EPILOGUE FOR LOOSE ENDS: But that’s not fair! She’s still being a prologue from the future!

EPISTOLARY NOVEL: Hello! I hope you know she’s just taking liberties with the exercise and using it to bolster her own profile! Sincerely!

THERAPIST: [holding up one hand] Yes, but you can’t deny that she’s also being unreliable, right?

Further discontented murmurs ripple through the room, reluctantly acknowledging this to be true.

THERAPIST: What can we learn from this? Perhaps that in order to succeed, we must build on our own unique talents, yes? Bearing in mind that we are here to cope with changes in literary fashions, with a view to becoming relevant again?

Grudging assent sounds through the group.

THERAPIST: For instance, let’s go to you, Epistolary Novel. Whose shoes did you step into this week?

EPISTOLARY NOVEL: Dear me. Well, this week, I’m going to be…

Suddenly, GRATUITOUS SUSPENSE leaps up from his seat and starts screaming and flicking the lights on and off.